


Remembering

by thesurielofficial



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Study, Hurt No Comfort, I'm very sorry for this, M/M, POV Sirius Black, Sirius black feels, This Is Sad, kind of, there's fluff in flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23260777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesurielofficial/pseuds/thesurielofficial
Summary: When Sirius sees Remus Lupin after twelve long years, everything comes rushing back
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Remembering

Sirius couldn’t breathe. Red rimmed hazel eyes and soft brown curls- Remus Lupin hadn’t changed much. But the thin scar that traced its way down his cheek seemed to have faded into his skin, lost in the lines of stress and worry. Sirius has known his face by heart, every curve and ridge and scar, the way his lips brought out the laughter lines around his tired eyes and the dimples in his hollow cheeks; he know the path that the tears took as they flowed down his cheek and along his scar, brushed away by trembling knuckles; he remembered the nights they’d spent together, the way his fingers had brushed over Remus’s soft lips and traced his sunken eyes and as if on instinct, Sirius Black raised his palm, only to let it fall back down because, fuck, he wasn’t ready for this. Perhaps Remus called out his name but he was underwater and the voices were blurry and he couldn’t hear anything and he was drowning, drowning, drowning. 

All Sirius could hear was Remus’s laughter in fifth year. He was drowning in the sound, the sound of sunlight and starry nights. They had pranked James and Peter and they’d been running towards the Lake, snowflakes settling on those beautiful curls. Sirius had stayed up many nights thinking about those curls, looking for the words to describe their colour- a deep caramel, a dark toffee, a soft cinnamon- it really did depend on the way the light hit it. His hair was the colour of daylight and shooting stars, of laughter and late night talks, of oversized sweaters and Christmas stocking. And there he stood, flushed cheeks and eyes alight and Sirius couldn’t help but lean in. Remus had let out a slight gasp of surprise before melting into his lips, a soft oh murmured against his mouth, because this, this was what they’d been waiting for for so long. 

“Oh,” whispered Sirius. “Hello, Re.” And suddenly he remembered seventh year mornings - the two of them studying for NEWTs late into the night, sleepy kisses by the fireplace, quizzing each other till 2 am, him carrying Remus back to the dorms when he dozed off, waking him up the next morning with a soft ‘hello, Re’ murmured against his skin. They’d always end up falling asleep again, legs intertwined and hearts beating beside each other, woken up in a few hours by James’s yelling and Peter’s teasing. 

“Hello, Harry,” whispered Sirius. This he had prepared himself for. He’d been watching Harry for a while now. The boy was so much like James hat it caused an ache in his chest, an emptiness that pressed against his ribs where his heart used to beat. He remembered James on the night when it had happened, glasses askew and eyes still open, hands out and fighting till the last moment. But there was nothing behind those vacant eyes, no remnants of his best friend. Sirius barely remembered the confrontation after that or his arrest as Peter fled the scene. All he remembered was agony and screaming and his soul shredding. 

He remembered the days in his cell as he waited for his trial, the mouldy darkness a parasite feeding on his sorrow. He remembered waiting for Moony because of course Remus would never let him rot all alone in that cell. Moony would believe him, he’d get Sirius out. “He’s coming, right?” he’d ask the bricks. They never answered. He scanned the audience at his trial because, maybe, maybe Remus wasn’t allowed to see him before, maybe he would be here now, he would be there and would hold Sirius and tell him everything would be alright. But there was no hint of those soft curls and Sirius didn’t even fight when the dementors took him away. 

The ring was digging into his palm, the diamond speckled with blood and dirt. They’d all been so happy, even with the war and Voldemort. That ring should have been on Moony’s finger, not with him in Azkaban. He turned it over in his palm. How could he? How could he forget Sirius? He hadn’t even given him a chance to explain what had happened. How could he, how could he, how could he? Sirius yelled the words at the dementors and into the night and in his nightmares. He screamed till his voice was so hoarse that he had forgotten what it was like to speak normally, to whisper sweet nothings into Moony’s ear during Transfiguration and watch the boy’s cheeks redden, to coo at baby Harry as he tried to get him to say Padfoot (and some other less appropriate words).

‘How could you’- the words rose up in Sirius’s throat but didn’t make it out because, fuck, despite everything, his heart still surged when Moony smiled at him, a tired smile, because even after twelve years, that ring was still in his pocket, duller now but still so precious. 

And when Moony opened his arms up to embrace him, Sirius remembered the way they said hello every September, his head buried in Moony’s shoulder as they boarded the train, Remus’s long fingers holding them steady against each other as he whispered to him how much he’d missed him and Sirius would smile for it felt nice to live and to be loved. 

Sirius buried his head in Moony’s shoulder. “I missed you,” Remus murmured, but there was something different, something lost. Sirius smiled, but it was a sorrowful smile, a smile that was a barrage to the tears that threatened to make an appearance. Twelve years, it seemed, was enough for Moony to have moved on and to have let go. And who was Sirius to destroy all that progress? So Sirius stepped out of those warm arms and into the cold night and whispered back, “I missed you too”, the ring in his pocket suddenly becoming heavy. 

And then, he whispered to the stars, ‘I missed you. I missed the life we could have had and the chances we never got.’ And Sirius thought of their messy childhood in Hogwarts hallways, of the building that had provided them with a bubble of innocence. ‘I missed you. I missed you. I miss you,’ he told the stars. Their silence was answer enough.

**Author's Note:**

> here's the [ Tumblr link ](https://thesurielbitch.tumblr.com/post/188071970824/remembering)  
> I wrote this at 4 a.m. while stressing out about my exams. But later, I decided to write a happy ending for them because I'm a sucker for happy endings. I'm not sure if I'll post it though because I feel like this fic is better as a stand-alone but comment if you want me to post it, or for the Tumblr link


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